L'intérieur de son esprit: Lilly Rush
by greyslostwho
Summary: Inside Lilly's head. Post Sabotage. Character study, I guess. R&R! Not French btw


**Lilly Rush as a character fascinates me. Hence why after watching Sabotage, and then watching over some old episodes and catching Rampage, I decided to do a character study, of a sort. Bear in mind this just follows my train of thought. Title is french, sums it up really: _Inside her mind._**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

What happens when you're too late? What happens then? You can wish and wish and wish that something, anything, turned out differently, but you never actually get the chance to go back and change things like you've dreamed you could forever. You stand there and watch someone's whole life turn to dust in front of your eyes, and his, and you wish that there was something you could do. But a wise man once said 'you can't save everyone' and although you know that, it doesn't matter right now. Not in this moment. Because you don't understand why you can't just save everyone. You don't see why not.

It's the look in people's eyes when they realise that it's actually real. The look in Luke Ross' eyes as he imagines his life without his wife and daughter, just for a split second, and he realises, he finally understands that his brother, his flesh and blood, did this to him. And you want to do anything, but you know that there is nothing.

You wish that he didn't have to suffer this. You wish that you could take it off his shoulders, the same way you wish it with every victim you ever see, every parent you see with tear filled eyes at the loss of their child, every husband, wife, best friend. Because you're too screwed up to even notice another loss on you. But their lives were perfect.

You once considered maybe that was why you became a cop. So you could defend the world with perfect lives, so you could fight for justice just so that you could still believe in your allusion of happiness. So that you could feel like you set people back on the track to their old lives, and though you know they'll never quite get there, at least you know that they're going in the right direction. That's why you like the cold jobs. The idea of righting a wrong that everyone thought would never be undone.

You're a good cop, you know that. And that's not being big-headed, it's just a fact. You can be cold, that's part of it, and you've got the right mind. Get inside the mind of the doer, that's what some people say, but that scares you slightly. You prefer to think of it as seeing the world through everyone's eyes. You understand. That's what you do.

Sometimes the cases are straightforward. Sometimes the victim died for a reason you get, or sometimes you get the feeling that it's closed, that you've righted the wrong done, or at least started to, by bringing justice. But there are some that you never forget, although no one will ever know that. The serials, the multiple murders. That rampage at the mall in '95. That one got you somehow. The case before you were shot. And now this one. The one that will drive you mad forever, you can tell. If you had just figured it out a few seconds sooner, called Vera a few seconds earlier...

Luke Ross can't look at you, and you don't expect him to. You know how it works. He will never know who to blame, so it will just be easier to blame someone other than himself. He won't blame his brother, he'll think of reasons not to. And it will eventually lead to him blaming you, blaming the cops on the case. For not thinking quicker, getting the situation in hand sooner. Not catching him before he did it again.

You've been through this so many times before, so many hard cases, so many hate-filled stares, so many painful glances. Usually the faces of the victims you see in your mind makes up for it. Usually.

You're frozen in your tracks, not sure if this is the last straw. You're like this every time. Every time there's the possibility that you've finally lost it altogether, that it's finally over. Sometimes that feeling is dreaded. Other times, like now for instance, it comes as a relief.

You got shot.

You've never thought about it like that before, so simply. You were scared and you were mad and you were shouting and saying things, and you were shot. And you watched the guy fall from Scotty's bullet. And then everything seemed to spin. And all the while you didn't really know what was happening to you, but you knew enough to be scared. The nightmares tell you that. You were so afraid... and it was because you weren't in control anymore. You are still scared of that...

But you needed to go back to work, and that's why you had to lie to the counsellor, and why you had to be tough, be cold, be the Lilly who wasn't affected. You were just fine. You were just fine. The more you told yourself that, the more you believed it.

But now... little things, single cases like this, they nearly broke you.

For the first time you wondered how close you actually were to cracking and how long it would be before you just couldn't anymore.

And then Vera walked out, and Miller, with Mrs Ross and little Mia, and colour seemed to flood back into the world.

You were on time, this time.

No one died, this time.

You were still a good cop.

You were still on top of your game.

You weren't going to crack... yet.

**Please review, it's my first solely Cold Case fic. Just a little one.**


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